


Animal Logic

by manic_intent



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, That AU where Logan never goes back to the future, and stays on as a sort of semi oracle, back to the future - Freeform, hah, hopefully without seriously messing things up forever more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2590046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have this feeling,” Logan said reflectively, when he had managed to squeeze himself into one of the large shirts that Hank had once been forced to wear pre-serum, “That I’ve just majorly fucked with the timeline yet again.”</p>
<p>“Really? How so?” </p>
<p>“Well, first off, I’m pretty sure I’m not meant to be here. As in, not <i>right now</i> here. And two, I’m not sure who fished me out of the river and left me to dry off in a motel, but I don’t recall that ever happening either.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Animal Logic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nikorys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikorys/gifts).



I.

“I have this feeling,” Logan said reflectively, when he had managed to squeeze himself into one of the large shirts that Hank had once been forced to wear pre-serum, “That I’ve just majorly fucked with the timeline yet again.”

“Really? How so?” 

“Well, first off, I’m pretty sure I’m not meant to be here. As in, not _right now_ here. And two, I’m not sure who fished me out of the river and left me to dry off in a motel, but I don’t recall that ever happening either.” 

“Why,” Charles took a sip of his lukewarm tea before going back to sorting the new proposed syllabus for his reopening school, “What was meant to happen?” 

Logan pulled a face. “Pretty sure it was meant to be a blank, that bit of my life,” he said guardedly, and Charles glanced up at him worriedly. Logan had prowled over to the stately window of Charles’ study, back to the wall, glancing out over the gardens with a tilt of his head. As before, it was a struggle to read Logan’s mind, but Charles couldn’t pick out a sense of wariness in it, or doubt. 

“If you believe in the butterfly effect,” Charles said, hoping that he sounded soothing - he was rather out of practice of late, “Quite possibly, the chain reaction from changing the course of history where Raven was involved must have caused a ripple effect, amending everything from that focal point onwards.” 

“Guess I’m stuck here then,” Logan concluded. Again, no ping of wariness, only resignation. “Could’ve been worse.”

“Worse?”

This time, there was a faint tint of humour, a second before Logan’s mouth quirked up into an uneven smile. “We coulda’ lost.”

“I didn’t see it as a matter of ‘winning’ or ‘losing’,” Charles said in distaste. “Erik’s still out there. Trask might have been imprisoned, but he hasn’t lost all his support. We still need to secure long-term funding for my school instead of relying on my trust fund, and-“

“‘Leastways Lehnsherr’s stopped prancin’ about in that purple and red getup.” Logan interrupted, then hesitated. “Or has that not happened yet?”

Despite himself, Charles let out a startled burp of laughter. “It’s happened. Sadly.”

“Well, y’might want to get onto that,” Logan waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Bad enough that he wants to conquer the world, he don’t have to look like a right prat doin’ it, does he?”

“… Are you trying to cheer me up or depress me?” 

“Could go either way,” Logan jammed his thumbs into his belt loops, and rolled his shoulders to loosen up some kinks. 

Charles tried not to stare. Logan could barely fit into Hank’s shirt: muscles strained at the seams, lending appreciatively to Logan’s general air of barely controlled, nearly bestial confidence. There was an animal grace to Logan that Hank never had even at his most feral, a wildness to the way he walked, and a primal violence that seemed to simmer just under his rough-cut surface. It had a certain visceral appeal that seemed all the more obvious now that Charles wasn’t busy trying to prevent his sister from becoming a globally wanted assassin. 

“So I was thinking,” Logan continued talking into the silence. “Maybe I could stay here and help you and McCoy out. If you want.”

“I’ll be glad for your help,” Charles said feelingly. “My God. Everything’s a mess. And I have to find my students again. Find out who Trask Industries hasn’t gotten to. Ease back into using Cerebro. And that’s not even the worst of my problems.”

“Got to keep hoping that Lehnsherr don’t decide to set the world on fire again?”

“He does seem to have a self-control problem in that regard,” Charles said wanly. “And you know something? I have no one to blame for that but myself.”

“Don’t think that way,” Logan said sharply, his tone so harsh that Charles flinched, buffeted by voice and the serrated hint of violence in Logan’s mind alike. Logan froze up at the sight, frowning, then he seemed to force himself to gentle his tone. “Look, Prof. You gotta learn one thing in life, especially when you start doing what you do.”

“And what’s that?”

Logan smiled again, his feral, sardonic smile, and Charles tried to control his flush. “Assholes are always gonna be assholes, bub.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Charles decided, and after a moment’s hesitation, wheeled himself out from behind the table. “So. Now that you’re stuck here. Running the risk of upsetting rules of paradox, or time travel or something… how should we begin? With all this?” Charles waved a hand distractedly at the window. 

“Hrm,” Logan flicked his stare briefly to the window. “Well. You need teachers and you need students. Like y’said, finding out who Trask Industries didn’t cut up might be a good start. I’ll nose around, see what I can do. Best to get Pietro and Wanda here as well,” he added, as an afterthought. “Before they go to Lehnsherr. That’ll fuck them up forever more, I can tell you that.” 

Charles grimaced. “All right. I’ll, ah, I’ll get Hank to talk to their mother.” 

“The thing is,” Logan added, scratching at his jaw, “I’m not sure how much I should change. Will things all go to shit or worse? There’s shit I wished that I had done in the past, but which I know likely won’t work out well for everyone. I don’t know if it’ll come around again,” he added evasively, “But I’ll be tempted as all hell to mess with it.”

“Jean Grey,” Charles said softly, remembering the burning moment of pain in Logan’s mind, the grief and horror. 

“Yeah. Her.” Logan glanced out at the window again.

“Logan,” Charles said gently, “From what I’ve seen of your mind - you’re a far better person now than you were before. Wiser, too. I’m confident that you’ll make the right decisions.” 

Logan stared at him for a long moment, long enough for Charles to start to squirm, then, finally, Logan said, “Yeah? Thanks, Prof. Needed to hear that.”

“No problems.” 

“I’ll pop out of town, check on some friends. Be back soon.”

II.

Logan’s ‘friends’ were a rag-tag bunch, including a man with invulnerable skin, an African-American with outlandish clothing who could teleport, and a nervous young man with an affinity for electronics. ‘Scouts’, Logan called them, again evasive, but they proved adept at finding young mutants for his school, and also good at gently persuading parents to send them to Charles: surprisingly.

At the fourth child, a little, dark-skinned girl with a shock of white hair, sitting in the living room having a cup of hot cocoa with Wraith, Hank and the other kids, Charles took Logan aside. “How do you do it?” Charles asked, partly amused. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for having a silver tongue.” 

Logan eyed him soberly, and Charles’ amusement died. “There’s things you got to know about me,” he said finally. “The ‘me’ in the other time? Around this period… seems I was a snatcher. Black ops. Worked for Stryker,” he added, and at Charles’ confusion, explained, “You saw him. He was Trask’s right hand man. He ran an experiment out in Alkaline Lake. Got us to bring in little kids for him. Other jobs, too. It paid well, and my brother loved it.” 

“But-“

“But I left. That didn’t end well.” Logan said, something final to his tone. “So, those kids? All I had to do was tell their parents. The world ain’t safe for people who’re different. Not yet. And until then, this school’s the best place they can be.” 

“You’re a different person now,” Charles said firmly. “I’ve seen that, remember? I’ve seen it all.”

The silence stretched, then Logan exhaled in a huff. “Guess you have,” he said gruffly, and although his expression didn’t change, Charles could taste surprise in Logan’s mind, surprise-pleasure-relief, a warm buzz that followed him in an afterimage even long after Logan had left the room. 

Charles wheeled himself to the warmth of a sun-drenched window, and held the memory of the touch to himself, breathing in, then out. He could sense it still, the hint of what he had first read in Logan’s mind, when he had read him, followed the kernel of time to an older iteration of Charles himself. Loyalty - but more than loyalty; devotion too, a burning conviction of Charles-as-teacher, Charles-as- _healer_ that Charles found difficult to reconcile. In a way, it was damning, the way Logan looked at him, the way Logan acted. Charles-as-he-was-now had done nothing to inspire such faith. 

And worse. The temptation to… do something with it, to _ask_ for something he had no right to have, to reach for a little comfort when he was so lost- 

Breathe in. Out. Charles settled himself down, folded his hands in his lap, over his useless legs. Tonight, he would shave.

III.

Once Hank and Charles had managed to get the school running, smoothing over the first awkward initial bumps, to Charles’ disappointment, Logan started to take longer and longer unexplained trips. He had purchased a motorcycle - a ‘road hog’, Logan had called it - a brash and noisy thing, and Charles had taken to glancing up whenever a rumbling motor passed by the school gate.

“I got business elsewhere to settle,” Logan said, on one of his return ‘checks’, when Charles questioned him about it. “A lot of shit went down in the early days.”

“Like Erik?” 

“Not just him,” Logan said, with a wry sort of look. “But if you were really wondering, I probably could track him down if you wanted.”

“Not right now,” Charles decided, because he didn’t have the time or resources to deal with Erik, even if he could. 

“Just so you know,” Logan added carefully, “The two of you do eventually become friends again.”

“Really?” Charles said, unable to hide the harshness to his voice even if he wanted to. “I can’t imagine why. Was the world ending, perchance?”

“Could say it was,” Logan agreed, wary instead of amused, and Charles beckoned to him, motioning Logan to have a seat at the armchair near the fireplace, close to where Charles had wheeled himself. Logan hesitated for a moment before he obeyed, sprawling into the chair with his usual animal grace, and again, Charles had to concentrate not to stare. 

“Your ‘business elsewhere’,” Charles said, to distract himself. “Was it my business as well? In another life?” 

“Some of it. I just got to make sure that I do the things again that I did right the first time,” Logan added. “And try not to fuck up on the things I didn’t.” 

“You must have led a busy life.”

“Could say that,” Logan said, and Charles could sense the lie in his words without even touching his mind. 

He sighed. “Logan, if there’s anything troubling you-“

“Could say there is,” Logan said evenly, never one for beating around the bush when approached directly. “Y’know, Prof. I can smell you.”

“I, uh-“ Charles was _fairly_ sure he had bathed-

“Not that,” Logan guffawed briefly before he sobered up. “I can smell it when someone’s sweet on another person.”

“… Oh.”

“And I’m damned sure,” Logan added dryly, “That something like _that_ never happened between us, just saying.”

“It’s harmless,” Charles said defensively. “I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have even mentioned and-“

“And I can’t say I’m not tempted,” Logan added, ignoring his protests. “But who’s to know what’ll happen, down the line?”

“Down the _what_?”

“Nothing good ever happened to the people I got close to,” Logan said quietly. “So. Might be good to take a few long breaks, me.” 

“Logan,” Charles said, very dryly, “I never thought you were the melodramatic sort.”

“Let’s just say I’ve got a hell of a lot of experience living my life,” Logan drawled, though he straightened up a little, like an animal scenting prey, his eyes narrowing, feet going flat on the carpet. 

“A previous life, yes. But not this one,” Charles said, knowing it was reckless, knowing this was possibly, after everything, quite ill advised. “Come here.” 

God, it was gratifying how quickly Logan obeyed, even with an uneven smirk slashed over his face, even with his almost mocking air as he sank to his knees beside the wheelchair, resting an arm casually over an arm rest. This close, Charles could smell his musk, like a big, clean animal, warm and inviting and wild, and he breathed deep, saw Logan watching him, saw his dark, feral eyes narrow and harden.

“You’re a sight prettier now than you were before,” Logan drawled, running a thumb over Charles’ shaven jaw. “Not sure if I like it.” 

“I’ll take that strange logic under advisement,” Charles said, and as he had seen once, in Logan’s memories, he caught Logan’s hands, turned the knuckles up, and pressed his lips deliberately against the patch of skin where Logan’s first claw would pop, if unsheathed; watched Logan’s eyes go molten. 

“Fuck,” Logan said softly. “Goddamned telepaths.” 

“This?” Charles smiled. “This is just a parlour trick for what I could do for you, Logan.” 

“Not interested in that,” Logan said, tipping Charles’ chin over, until their lips were nearly pressed together, until Charles could feel Logan’s hot breath, so intimately closed. “For me, all of this has always been what _I_ could do for _you_. So tell me.” He picked up Charles’ hand, gentle and firm, and pressed the fingers to his temple. “Show me.” 

If this was a mistake, Charles thought, as he settled into Logan’s mind, awed by the breadth of Logan’s trust - then let the world burn.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope OP likes the fic!


End file.
